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Trashed and Scattered
So it's been awhile...
A long... long... while.
I'll give you a summary of the events that have gone down over the past few... battles (No way I can tell you how much time has passed.)
After the night of questions... the battle took a hard left turn. It became all hell in no time. Rest became the most treasured thing we could ask for, and as the battles would lessen, one of us had to keep watch, so I've been up for a while. Our diet has transisted to eating what we kill, thanks to all our battles in this war there's no time for some proper hunting. Every moment alive is a blessing in this new hell, as my energy and Winter's have become rationed and so has the pack's.
The demns have descended into a civil war, which both helps and hurts what little of our unit remains. Helps in the demons killing each other and cutting our job in half, hurts because each side has grown so much more alert and problematic. Decimation is something we've come close to many many times. This war has become almost too risky and painful to handle, no war's an understatement. We're now in hell.
At this hour, if my timing is correct, I've tripled my record of staying up for seventy-two hours. We've taken encampment in a micro-coniferous forest, as the frozen hell also known as the Tundra of Sol, becomes the soul of the war. The only reason this place exists is because of a springs in the heart of this ten mile radius haven, boiling away at one hundred degrees.
However, this encampment is over desperation, we're fifty miles away from any nearby battle. The entire pack's been severely wounded. Winter's left arm has become bone fragments with muscle bound around it. She's healing fast, but for the proper setup in her arm we will be here five more days. The wolves, despite their unwillingness to show it, are weak as well. They've all been very thankful for this small rest. Me however, I hate it.
No, I don't hate the waiting, but what I do hate is that Winter is fighting healing properly. I also hate that I've been wounded badly as well.
Without sleep, my ribs have little energy to expend on themselves, they've become cracked in my most recent battle. My arms are beginning to give up on me too. I can tell that unless I end this quick, I won't be able to bring myself back home too quickly. My eyes want to close, but I'm unable to sleep knowing that Winter is near so much danger and is in danger of being killed if it's a strong demon.
I've been dutifully clutching my scythe close, lying about my sleep, lying about my pains here and there. I'll be damned if I let myself become a burden to them.
I have no plan, I'm going off the blunt moments. I'd allow myself in the springs, but I fear that we'll fall under attack. I feel eyes boring down on me, at night the branches sway, and the wolves keep a few on alert in their sleep. Demons are among us, I can almost feel them breathing down my neck, but I clutch my scythe close and keep my cool.
I try to tell myself things will be alright, but this feels like the few days before what was my last battle as the actual Skold. However, I don't feel the fear for my soul, it's for Winter's.
All I know, is that with each hour I stay awake, I become less. There's not much left of my body to be claimed by numbness. I'm doomed to collapse soon....

Dawn is breaking... another day begins. The wolves are waking up, I'm going to the springs. I'll take a small rest in the water... just a few minutes.






User Comments: [1] [add]
His_teddy_bear_rp
Community Member
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commentCommented on: Thu Nov 06, 2008 @ 02:24am
Nice reference to the fighting healing, Skold. stare
I am not fighting healing! I'm just not sitting back and letting it heal very quickly, haha.


User Comments: [1] [add]
 
 
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